


I wish I could be yours out loud; Soonhoon

by kwanies



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, idol relationship, this is messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 09:10:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20927723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwanies/pseuds/kwanies
Summary: The thing about love: it's complicated, it's confusing, and sometimes you should know better.





	I wish I could be yours out loud; Soonhoon

**Author's Note:**

> hi it's 1am and im like ?? sort of sleepy but was also in the mood to write angst so. that's what i did
> 
> (except it's really short and directionless and hasn't been proofread At All so please excuse me if this turns out to be a whole mess)

_ This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real. _ Repeat it over and over like a mantra. Remind yourself, save yourself.

Jihoon’s thighs feel cold against the floor of the practice room and the coffee between his hands feels hot. He feels hot in his cheeks, in his throat, but coldest where it counts - in his chest, it’s just a lonely breeze blowing autumn leaves around his ribcage. Soonyoung’s head is against his shoulder.

“If we quit, I could be yours.”

“Don’t say stupid things.” His voice sounds rough.

“I can’t help it, you make me stupid. In the best way.”

If Jihoon singles out these lines, the little snippets of dialogue, if he tosses out the rest of the script, he can almost convince himself that this means something. Maybe it does, maybe he’s just too scared to let himself believe in it.

“How do I stop doing that?”

“I don’t think you can. It’s not something you can help, it’s just something that _ is _.”

Tomorrow morning, the others will ask them why they were up so late practicing, and Soonyoung will tell them that he was having trouble getting a move right. He’ll tell them that Jihoon left before him to do some work in the studio. He’ll ruffle the sleep out of his hair and avoid the look in Jihoon’s eye, smile and say something like, _ I got it, eventually, _ and that’ll be the end of it. No kisses. No skin on skin. No whispered promises and stares dripping heartache - none of that.

Tomorrow morning will be like any other day. Tonight, Jihoon just wants to sleep. He says as much.

“Then sleep,” Soonyoung says simply.

“I don’t really want to move.”

“Then don’t.”

Tomorrow, Jihoon will wander back into his studio and write songs about ghosts; ghost relationships, ghost hearts and fingers entwined. Things that are _ almost _ real, but sadly, painfully, not quite.

Tomorrow, Jihoon will try to forget the feel of Soonyoung’s words against his throat, but he won’t. He’ll try to forget the nerves, how they tangled like his fingers in Soonyoung’s hair, try to forget the mouths and spines and the way they reached each other. He won’t think about the empty sentiment, the _ I want to give this all up and go live somewhere with you, alone. _ He won’t think about _ wishes _ , and how _ I wish I could be yours out loud _. He’ll try, he won’t, this and that and lots of things in between. Jihoon’s heart and head get confused sometimes. He’s not sure what he’s doing anymore.

Soonyoung tells him that home is in his arms. Soonyoung says sweet things, and Jihoon doesn’t believe any of them, even though he wants to so, so badly.

“I hate secrets,” Soonyoung tells him. “I hate that sometimes, you don’t have any choice but to keep them.”

“I hate,” Jihoon starts, and the words come out strangled, “I hate that I can never tell how much you mean these things.” Soonyoung shifts. The weight of him lifts off of Jihoon, and the air that replaces it feels cold. His eyes say _ what? _and Jhoon says, “You tell me you want to spend the rest of your life with me, but you can’t even bring yourself to spend one night in my bed.”

“Don’t give that to me, you know the position we’re in. Wanting something doesn’t always mean you’re going to get it.”

“Who would stop us, Soonyoung? You say - You tell me, let’s quit our jobs, let’s give all this up and run away together - but the only reason you can’t bring yourself to kiss me in the light is that you’re _ scared _ of losing anything at all.”

Soonyoung looks like a city at night, all blinking lights and shining. He’s beautiful, even now, even always, Jihoon can’t forget it. “It’s more complicated than that,” he says, and he’s beautiful even when he’s hurting. Jihoon’s shoulders drop.

“Yeah,” he says, defeated. “I know it is.”

_ This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real _ \- Jihoon’s starting to believe that mantras are bullshit, because this one isn’t working. Soonyoung lays his head against him again, and it’s real. Jihoon wants to convince himself that he’s forgettable; if Soonyoung could wash away his touch with soap and water, burn the taste of Jihoon’s name away with vodka, then he could be angry at _ someone _ and then he could tell himself _ he knows better _ and then he could quit this love bullshit, because clearly it’s just going to ruin the both of them.

But Soonyoung holds him like a lifeline. He says his name like a prayer. When he holds Jihoon’s face, he holds him like something precious and breakable, worth protecting. Jihoon reads him like a bible, Jihoon turns pink against him and smiles even when his face feels like falling apart. Jihoon loves Soonyoung, and Soonyoung deserves it.

_ This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real _. Go to bed alone. Wake up in the morning alone. Talk lies over breakfast and share a secret glance. Meet each other at night, kiss, hold, touch - lather, rinse, repeat.

Love will ruin the both of them. Fine, then. 


End file.
